


Press Start to Play

by redlightgreenlight



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, Magic, Mild Blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 06:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4554564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlightgreenlight/pseuds/redlightgreenlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After loading an unknown disk, Ryan and Gavin must make their way through a number of Fairy Tales. Except they're the characters inside the game. </p><p>And the game does not like it when you stray from its path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic is 10 chapters long, and this prologue will absolutely be the shortest one (I'm about halfway through writing omg help.) I don't know what'll be included, so more specific warnings for this fic will be at the start of each chapter in the notes. Thank you! I'd really appreciate any comments/kudos/critique.

That goddamn game.

Ryan had been side-eyeing it all morning. It sat on his desk in a cheap black case, save for a water-damaged sticky note shoved into the sleeve. He'd found it amongst his things from the trip to Germany, alongside gifts and artwork from fans. Only a few of the Achievement Hunters made it to work that day, most had tapped out from the flight or busy with other projects. He and Gavin had been enjoying the peace that the near-empty office had provided them. He'd forgot how easy it was to fall into the lull of editing videos without the threat of pens – or, on one occasion, a milkshake - being launched at him with a golfclub.

 _What the hell is that game?_ He shook his head and continued with his editing, but every couple of minutes, the game drew him back in.

Ryan jumped at the tap on his shoulder.

He turned to see Gavin chewing on a granola bar. Through his full mouth he said, “Fifty dollars.”

Ryan smirked and pulled his headphones off. Gavin's bets had been a source of enjoyment recently. And despite the fact that he blushed whenever Gavin directed his flirting or friendly banter towards him, it was completely platonic.

Completely.

“Fifty dollars what?”

He swallowed and pointed at the game. “Alright, fifty dollars says you'll look at that game again in the next five minutes.”

With a chuckle, Ryan accepted and went back to editing, leaving Gavin to wander off to his own station. _Five minutes. Easy._ He let his mind wander, eyes easily switching between the viewpoints of his co-workers, picking out which screens he'd focus on.

Out of nowhere, Gavin chirped, “I'll take my fifty bucks, thank you.”

“Excuse me?” He asked, pushing his headphones off once again.

“It's been...” He turned to his computer and hummed. “Two minutes and you've looked _twice._ I let you off once because I'm a top friend _and_ you've lost too much to me already.”

“I have not, I've been--”

Gavin gave a pointed cough and nodded towards Ryan's hand. He followed the direction to find his hand had been messing with the seam of the casing. “Oh...”

“What even is it?” Gavin walked up beside Ryan's chair and picked the case up, frowning at the sticky note. “ _Something something_ Grimm _something something_ two plus players.”

“I found it in the suitcase on the way home,” he answered with a shrug.

A devious smile played at Gavin's lips. He waved the game in the air. “Team Love and Stuff Play Pals?”

A matching smile played at Ryan's. “Pull up a chair.”

~*~

The game waited on Ryan's desktop, ready to be played. Through setup, his mind grew more and more cloudy, bumping into his desk and chair and – much to his embarrassment – Gavin. A dull ache began in his temples. He reasoned the quicker he finished the playthrough, the quicker he could deal with it with painkillers.

“Ready to go?” Gavin asked, his voice sounding forced as he shuffled in his seat.

Ryan rubbed his eyes, willing the fog to leave. “Yep. Team Love 'n' stuff.”

Double-tapping the icon, it grew to fill the screen with darkness. He leaned in close to his microphone. “So I found this... At the bottom of my bag from Germany.”

Gavin squeaked out a laugh. “What is this?”

The game loaded with an 80s aesthetic. The blocky candy pink and white title read “TALES” with pixellated characters underneath, bobbing up and down to a tune Ryan recognized from ice cream trucks. Children holding hands, witches, girls with pigtails, princesses, and princes. All with pixellated, blocky smiles.

Ryan moved his cursor over the pink _play_ button, wincing as his head throbbed harder.

“Who in God's name programmed this?”

The cursor circled over a boy wearing lederhosen. “That's you.”

With a snort, Gavin pointed to a boar-like character dressed in a blue shirt. “Then that's you.”

Ryan chuckled. “Maybe if I don't shave for a week.” Gavin groaned away from the microphone. Ryan shot him a worried look, to which he waved off with a smile. “Shoutout to whoever dropped this into my bag.”

“Yeah, shoutout to them. Shoutout to this... 8-bit nightmare of a game.”

A red warning screen faded onto the screen. Ryan cleared his throat.

“ _Warning: This game may cause panic attacks, dysphoria, mental unease confusion, and mental fog. Once you press continue, you cannot go back. Please take caution.”_

“This is gonna be a screamer, isn't it?” He tapped _continue_ and turned to Gavin, only to find him scrunching his eyes closed.

“Bet you're a screamer,” he replied, voice shaking until he released a high-pitched whimper and dropped his head into his palms.

Ryan could only watch on as Gavin slumped onto the floor with a quiet, “ _fuck.”_ He tried to call out his name, tried to reach for him, tried to reassure him everything would be alright. His body wouldn't allow it, mind now swimming to the point where darkness began to swallow his vision.

_Please be okay._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Please tell me you don't have a foot fetish."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your feedback! I really appreciate it. I'll be updating the tags as I go along in this story. Any changes will also be noted in the Chapter Notes. Thank you so much for your kind words and patience.

Gavin groaned as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Sunlight fell on his face, warming him and tempting him back to his peaceful rest. He clutched at his pillow and shuffled deeper into the comfort the bed offered him.

_Wait... Bed?_

He sat bolt upright, letting the plush duvet fall away from his body. In confusion, he glanced around the room. Completely unfamiliar. Gray stone walls surrounded him, and the only light came naturally from open windows at the foot of his bed. A wooden chair here, a small wooden table there. A cast-iron pot hung within a fireplace; the room still smelled of smoldering wood.

Without grace, Gavin pushed himself up from the bed and scoured the room. No Go-pros. No hidden cameras. No microphones. Nothing.

A shriek interrupted Gavin's investigation.

“Gavin!” A male voice called out, echoing and angry but familiar all the same.

“Michael?”

“Gavin, where are you?!”

He hurried to the wooden door, peering out into a matching gray stone hallway. “Michael?” He called out again, voice echoing around him, letting him hear his own uncertainty.

Furious footsteps grew louder until Michael turned the corner to face Gavin. “Where have you be--” His face switched from furious to appalled in an instant. “You're not even  _dressed._ ”

He looked down to find himself dressed in a cream nightgown, complete with a lace-up section at his neck. Michael's clothing choice confused Gavin even more. The combination of the setting, his attire, and Michael unironically wearing purple velvet pants and matching waistcoat led Gavin to a conclusion - Either this was an extremely elaborate prank or Gavin was dreaming.

“Michael, what the fuck is going on? Where am I?”

With a scoff, Michael sauntered towards him, removing a beige envelope from his pocket. “Because I'm feeling generous--”

He pushed the envelope into Gavin's fumbling hands. “Generous?”

“Fucking _generous._ Jesus, Gavin, listen. I won't tell Jack you cursed. Those are your chores for today.”

Michael turned on his heel and walked away, shined shoes tapping on the stone. “Me, Ray, and Jack are going out. Jack said be done before we're back or there'd be hell to pay,” he called out before turning the corner and out of Gavin's sight.

He slipped back into his unfamiliar room and dropped to his knees, light-headedness taking him by surprise.

_This can't be real. Wake up._

He grabbed at a fleshy part of his thigh and pinched hard, twisting until he gritted his teeth and left the skin red and abused.

_Wake up!_

He got to his feet and stumbled over to the fireplace. He put out his hand, letting it hover over the smouldering wood that sat at the bottom.

_Warm. It's warm. This is real. The pinch was real._

Gavin shook his head.  _Can't be. No fucking way._

He sat on the edge of the bed, hands dangling between his knees, as he stared at the stone wall. An idea struck him and he forced himself to climb back into bed, letting his eyes slide closed.

_If I just go back to sleep in the dream, I'll wake up at home._

An eternity passed as Gavin stared into darkness. With a huff, he sat up. His first plan had failed.

_Maybe... I could just let the dream happen? Then I'll just wake up at the end. This isn't so bad. It's just a dream_ , Gavin reasoned to himself.  _Even if Dream Michael is being a complete prick._

He pulled the worn-down doors of the wardrobe in the corner open, hoping to find a pair of pants and a shirt. There was something at the bottom, bundled up into a white and gray ball. Gavin pulled it out and laid it out on the bed.

A dress. A goddamn gray dress with a white apron.

Gavin abandoned the room to try and find the others' rooms. They'd have clothing. Pants and shirts and socks. The cold from the floor had started to numb his toes. He turned the corner of the hallway and choked. A searing, white-hot pain ran from his neck and down his back. He gasped and fell against the nearby wall, his vision going spotty from the pain. He struggled back down the hallway, hoping that collapsing on the bed would ease the pain.

He slammed the door shut, and the pain vanished almost as quickly as it began.

Gavin stared at the door. Then at the dress that sat unassuming on the bed. And back at the door. With a frown, he nodded.

“Alright...” He muttered out loud. “Think I get it, dream.”

He ran his hand over the dress. Faded gray, worn in. Old and used. With a huff, he shuffled out of his nightgown and slipped the dress over his head, hands catching on the material until it sat on his shoulders. It was oversized and baggy, too big for his thin frame, yet fit perfectly for his long arms and shoulders.

He tied the apron in a bow around his waist and turned to look at himself in the cracked mirror near the door. A couple of seconds of inspection, he'd decided.

_I look fucking silly._

Not wanting to risk pissing off his own dream again, he took the beige envelope in hand and ripped it open. The chores list wasn't so much a list and more of an agenda to systematically humiliate him.

“ _Clean fireplace, shine shoes, mend pockets/buttons, set mousetraps..._ Bugger me, who am I? Bloody Cind--”

Gavin whipped his head around at a squeak to find a small mouse sat on the bedpost. Gavin stared and the mouse stared back. “Uh...”

The mouse squeaked again.

Gavin looked to either side of himself before turning back to the mouse. “You... Do you understand me?” He asked, feeling ridiculous as soon as the question left his mouth.

The mouse squeaked.

He took a deep breath and groaned. “This is getting stupid. Do I have to do all this shit to wake up?” He asked, waving the list towards the mouse. “Uh... One for no, two for yes.”

The mouse squeaked. Twice.

“Shit.” He glanced over the list again. He hoped he woke up soon.

~*~

Gavin's knees were sore from kneeling; hands pruned from scrubbing at the stone below his knees. As he scrubbed, he thought about his predicament.

_So if I'm Cinderella in this dream. Then Michael and Ray are the Step-Sisters. And Jack's the Mother. Is this the Disney one or the bad one? Is there a bad one of Cinderella?_

Ray and Michael barrelled through the front door, shouting and laughing, before sprinting upstairs. Jack followed in behind them with a raised eyebrow. “Are you almost finished?”

Gavin had reached his limit. “Yeah, actually. Shove your chores up your--”

A flash of searing pain hit his back once again, more intense than the first but ended just as suddenly.

“Good.” Jack replied, as though he didn't just watch Gavin writhe in pain. “Make sure you're done then you can help your brothers get ready.”

“Ready?”

He watched Jack sigh with dramatic flair. It was similar to how the real Jack sighed at Gavin, but there was something angrier behind the action. There was real venom. “The Ball. The Palace is throwing a Ball. You're helping your brothers get ready.”

Jack didn't give Gavin anymore of his time and left to make his way upstairs, leaving him to his own confusion.

_If this is Cinderella. And I need to get to the end... I need to get to that ball._

~*~

How many hours does it take for three grown men to get ready for a party? In Gavin's dream, it's five. Gavin spent five hours ensuring Jack, Ray, and Michael looked their best for the Ball. Gavin knows it's five because he spent every other minute looking at the clock, wishing time would hurry so they'd leave.

He soon discovered how different his dream versions of his friends were. Michael was vain: constantly primping and admiring himself in the mirror, asking Gavin which features of his body he liked best, and comparing himself to the others. Ray acted spiteful and petty. He'd started an argument over a comb with Michael. And shoes. And over who'd get the first dance.

Jack was cold, but only to Gavin. Warm and loving to the other two boys, but regarded Gavin as little more than an errand boy.

He kept reminding himself that it was just a dream. These people weren't his real friends. But there was something about how they acted that felt like a stab in the gut.

Eventually, all three men stood in the kitchen, wearing their finest clothes and waiting for their carriage. Gavin wished he had a camera on hand. Ray caught him staring and sneered at Gavin. “What? What are you staring”

He wanted to say that he was staring at Ray's piss-colored heels, but thought better of it. He didn't want to risk another shock.

“Nothing. You all look wonderful. I just...” Gavin gave a dramatic sigh. “I _do_ wish I could come with you.”

_Joel Heyman, eat your heart out._

Michael laughed, full-bellied and bitter. Despite the fact that Gavin knew how this story would end, it still stung. He was used to Michael being angry and teasing, but never cruel. “Yeah, _sure_ , Gavin.”

The carriage pulled up, and all three men left without a word to Gavin.  _Perfectly okay with me. Pricks._

He jogged into the kitchen and pulled out a wooden dining room chair to face the large clock that hung over the fireplace. He waited for his “unexpected” guest.

_The damn Godmother better be worth it._

~*~

It was hours later, and Gavin had given up hope. It was fast approaching 10pm and the sun had long since set. Moonlight flooded into the kitchen, and the dying embers of the fire that Gavin had mustered together began flickering out one by one. Gavin had rested his head on his folded arms and let night time grow around him.

_I'm going to be stuck here. I'm going to be stuck in this dream. All because a sodding Fairy didn't show._

“Useless,” he spat into his arms, tears welling up in his eyes. “Completely useless.”

“What's useless?”

Gavin's head shot up. A taller man stood silhouetted by the moonlight. Faint glowing shapes swirled on his skin, ever shifting, making him look almost ethereal. A mischievous glint in his eye to match an even more mischievous smirk. “Geoffrey!” Gavin blurted out.

The smirk spread into a toothy grin. “Sorry I'm kinda late, had a problem.” He raised his bottle of whisky in place of an explanation.

“You're my fairy godmother?”

“The one and only,” he replied, unscrewing the cap to the bottle. “S'up.”

Gavin couldn't help but laugh, feeling happy for the first time since he arrived. An idea crossed his mind. He could ask Geoff whether he knows what's going on, but it'd mean he'd risk being shocked again.

“Hey, don't think too hard. I'm worn out just from looking at you.”

_It's worth a go._ “Do you know what's going on here?” Gavin asked in a rush of breath and prepared himself for the pain.

“Yep.”

Relief flooded him. “Oh god, can you tell me?”

“Nope.”

“Thank yo-- Wait, what?”

“Look, I'm gonna level with you.” Geoff began as he pulled out a wooden chair to throw himself onto. He took a swig of whisky and recapped the bottle. “It's not my job. You'll find out what's happening but not right now. Right now, you need to get your twinky little ass to the ball.”

Gavin felt cheated. _Not right now?_ “No, that's absolute bollocks! Tell me!”

“I'm guessing you trust the real me, right? You wouldn't have looked so goddamn happy when I showed up otherwise.”

“The _real_ you?”

Geoff groaned and shook his head. “Just trust me. I can't say, but I'll get you to your explanation. I promise.”

Contemplating his options, he had no other choice than to trust Not-Geoff. “Fine. Just one last question.”

Geoff raised an eyebrow when Gavin pointed at him.

“No Fairy Godmother dress?”

At Geoff's chuckle, they both stood from their chairs. “Nope, got that changed _immediately._ Got me some sweet jean-shorts now.”

“Wanna help me out and do the same?” He asked, motioning down to his gray smock. The draught between his thighs was starting to feel uncomfortable.

The uncertain noise that came from his Fairy Godmother (Godfather?) didn't reassure Gavin. “No can do. Sorry. It's gotta be a dress.”

Gavin stared back in silence.

“It's the rules!”

“Rules to what? It's my bloody dream!”

“Just go with it, dude, you're making it harder.” Geoff moaned. The familiarity of the tone comforted him slightly.

“Fine, fine...” Gavin thrust both arms out to either side of him and squeezed his eyes closed. “Make me a princess.”

Geoff snorted. “Done and done.”

A rush of cold air hit his feet and made a rapid crawl up his calves. He opened one eye and looked down to find ominous blue smoke consuming him, glistening and glowing as it reached the hem of his smock. He felt the material shift and sway unnaturally as the smoke grew thicker and wider around him. It had reached his midriff when he started to panic. He looked to Geoff who had taken another swig of whisky before slamming it down on the table. “Chill, you'll be fine.”

He felt himself be forced up onto the balls of his feet, supported by something sturdy beneath him as the smoke reached his neck. The material of the sleeves receded up his arms and sat tight around his shoulders. Gavin took a gulp of air in and shut his eyes out as the smoke began to fade up to his face.

A couple of moments passed.

“You can open your eyes, idiot.”

Gavin did as he was told and looked down. He knew jack shit about dresses, but this looked... Nice. A gentle baby blue and white with gold trim. The material, soft and lightweight. Expensive-looking. He lifted the dress slightly to peer at his feet. And, as expected, glass heels encased them. He pressed his lips together, only to rear back in confusion and drop the hem.

“Geoff?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Am I wearing lipstick or something?”

“Lip _gloss_ but close enough.”

Gavin took both palms and scrubbed at his face. He pulled away when Geoff started laughing. “Dude, that shit's magic, it's not coming off.”

“Goddamn it.”

“Hey, uh...” Geoff began, making his way over to the back door. “Are there mice around here?”

Gavin sat down in the chair and let the dress pool around him. He didn't realise how fluffy the damn thing was. “Yeah, they're somewhere.”

With a loud whistle, several mice crawled out the woodwork of the kitchen, narrowly avoiding the traps Gavin had set as a part of his chores. He couldn't help but coo softly as the mice sat obediently on the floor, waiting for Geoff.

The glowing tattoos shifted and made their way towards his fingertips, his hands lighting up blue as they collected. “You're gonna help this asshole out. You know your roles.”

He whistled again and the mice filed out of the kitchen through a small hole near the door and out into the yard. In a puff of shimmering smoke, Gavin watched several grown men emerge, all wearing similar ridiculous outfits in the same baby blue.

Geoff gestured at the back door for it to swing open by itself. He looked back to Gavin and nodded outside. He followed to see the Fairy Godmother use his magic to shift a pumpkin away from the small garden and drop itself a couple of feet away. It began to shake and, in the same vein as the others, emerged from the puff of shimmery smoke as a carriage.

“Cool, right?”

Gavin hummed. “I'm gonna struggle to get there.”

“Why?”

“Unless that's got a motor shoved inside, it's not going to move.”

Geoff cursed and whistled, louder this time, and two mice scurried out of the kitchen and in front of the carriage. The smoke emerged around the mice, grew, and faded once more. Two whinnying horses stood where the mice once were. Without command, the footmen hurried to their places. Everything was ready.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

Geoff gaped at Gavin. “No thank you?”

“Oh! Oh, cheers Geoffrey.”

“Yeah no problem, dickhead.” Geoff cleared his throat. “Ground rules. Everything switches back at twelve, roughly. The last stroke of Midnight, you're going to look poor as fuck, so I recommend you leave.”

Gavin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He knew the story but he had to admit, Geoff helped him out a lot. “Got it.”

With surprising ease whilst wearing heels, Gavin climbed into the carriage and let the footman close the door behind him. Gavin stuck his head out the window. “Oh! Geoffrey!”

He was stretching his hands out, willing the blue tattoos back into place. “Yeah? What's up?”

“Say like... I lost my shoe. And it struck midnight. Would that vanish? Or would it still be a shoe?”

The Fairy Godmother dropped his head. “Gavin, a word of advice. In this place, logic is bullshit. Just roll with it.”

~*~

He stood in front of the double doors. The driveway in front of the palace was deserted. No carriages or people to be seen for a mile. Gavin realised the ridiculousness of the situation; he felt nervous about a dream. None of this was real. What Geoff had mentioned about “the real Geoff” had worried him slightly, but... Clearly this was a dream. Magic wasn't real. A pumpkin can't be a carriage, mice can't be footmen, and Gavin wasn't wearing lip gloss.

He'd fight anyone that brought it up.

With a hard push, he opened the door to the palace and slipped inside. He turned around and found himself immediately in the ballroom.

What seemed like hundreds were there. People drank from champagne flutes, milling around between groups. Couples danced, swirling around one another with well-timed grace. An almost constant buzz of talking and the occasional full-bellied laugh that echoed around the grand ballroom and up to the high ceiling.

Gavin navigated through the masses of people who swayed drunkenly at every opportunity. He snatched a champagne flute and made his way to stand with his back to the wall. He hated to admit it to himself, but the dress was starting to feel comfortable on him. It gave him some well-needed personal space as people avoided stepping on the material.

Trumpets sounded and the entire ballroom faded into silence and turned towards the balcony that overlooked them. A lone man with a scroll ( _a bloody scroll_ ) began to read. “Ladies and Gentlemen. His Royal Highness – The Prince.”

Gavin dropped his champagne flute onto the hard marble.

_Ryan?_

He had emerged from behind the curtain to the tune of murmurs from the attendees. The man made his way down the stairs from the balcony and sat at a plush golden throne.

“His Royal Highness shall now meet potential suitors.”

Gavin couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter at the scene. A mass of people swarmed into a polite line in front of Ryan's throne. With a smirk, he made his way over to wait patiently to meet the Oh So Glorious Prince Ryan.

As the line shifted closer and closer towards the throne, he got a better look at Ryan. Despite the many jokes at the office and between fans, he thought the closest he'd ever see him dress up as a king would be in his Minecraft outfit. And yet...

_Ryan looks bloody... Good._

A thin crown sat perched on his head, decorated in rubies and emeralds. But as he looked harder at his face, each time he politely smiled and bowed his head at potential suitors, he looked exhausted. Black bags underneath his eyes that were poorly covered by cosmetics, a tired smile that switched to a frown once he was finished with formalities.

Gavin saw Ryan's eyes widen. He glanced at the suitor he saw and saw Michael bow politely, then quickly move to the left. Ray replaced Michael and followed his lead – Bowing before turning away with a flushed face.

“Please be nice.” Gavin prayed quietly.

One person from the front of the queue, and Ryan looked up to make eye contact with Gavin. He frowned at him as he bowed, now effectively ignoring the suitor that was quickly hurried away by servants. Gavin stepped up, and continued on towards the throne. “Ryan?”

Relief washed over Ryan's face. “Gavin? Oh my  _god._ ”

The Prince opened his arms for Gavin to stumble into. He clung to him. He was content to see any friendly face, it was a bonus that it was the gent.

They pulled away quickly after startled gasps echoed around the room. Gavin couldn't help but snort when Ryan straightened himself up and pitched his voice down. “I've found someone. The rest may go back socialising.”

Servants bowed and trumpets sounded again, announcing Ryan's decision. Gavin couldn't help but feel smug at the disappointed and envious faces that left. The Prince called for a chair for Gavin, and both sat down, both with equally confused and relieved expressions.

“So... Why are you in my dream?” Gavin asked, trying to pat down the dress between the arms of the chair.

“Dream?”

“Yeah, this is--”

“Gavin, this isn't a dream.” Ryan said in a gentle tone. “Look.”

Ryan took a white glove off to expose his hand. An angry, red burn sat in the middle. “I freaked out and burned my hand this morning. It still hurts.”

“So this is...”

“Real. Yeah.”

“And I'm really in a fucking dress.”

Ryan chuckled. “Yeah, I wanted to ask you about that.”

“Geoff's an arsehole.”

“Geoff's here?” Ryan asked in a hopeful tone.

“Not really Geoff.”

He dropped his head and groaned. Gavin felt kinda bad for him. Ryan took a deep breath in and gestured to his neck. “Have you been getting these...?”

“Shocks? They suck. I don't know what they are.”

“I think...” Ryan started and hummed. “So you know this is Cinderella? If we do something against the plot, the pain starts.”

“What made you figure that out?”

“When they said I had to get married, I... May have told the King to suck my dick.”

Gavin burst out into laughter. “That's amazing! Prince Ryan's got balls.”

“Oh, Jesus, don't call me that,” he complained.

Gavin frowned. “Oh, I'm sorry, Prince Ryan. Was it hard playing Royalty? Did you have to scrub floors and sew all day?”

To his credit, Ryan looked embarrassed. “I'm sorry. I didn't pick the roles.”

He folded his arms and sat back in his chair. “This fucking sucks. How do we get back?”

“I... Don't know.”

Gavin thought back. “Geoff told me just to roll with it. He said get through this and we'll get our explanation. So I guess we just...”

“... Go with it?”

They sat in silence, watching the patrons of the Ball continue, music playing gently in the background. Ryan suddenly perked up. He signalled over a servant and muttered something into their ear. The servant shuffled away towards the trumpeters. Ryan offered a hand to Gavin, a slight blush dusted his cheeks. Gavin smiled. “What's going on?”

“We're just going with it.”

The trumpeters played their tune. “His Royal Highness would like the floor to be cleared for his first dance.”

Gavin blanched. He had no fucking clue how to dance, and now Ryan ( _why did it have to be Ryan?_ ) was asking him to in front of hundreds. “Uh...”

The gent leaned in. “I think it's part of the story. Y'know... Cinderella dances with the Prince, falls in love, then fucks off at Midnight.”

Heat crawled up Gavin's neck. “Oh... Oh, alright.”

They took one another's hand, and made the walk to the wide open space of the floor. Whispers spread across the crowd, eyes darting between the Prince and Gavin. He looked at Ryan and only saw worry.

“Smile. They can smell fear.”

Ryan snorted and turned to him. “Follow my lead. We'll do simple steps.” He squinted at Gavin's face. “Are you wearing... Lipstick?”

“I will fucking fight you. Don't think I won't, Rye-bread.”

With a laugh, he slid a hand onto his waist and pulled his body closer to Ryan's. He looked up and saw nothing but openness and trust. He needed to do this to get out of here. He needed to follow the story. That's all it was.

[The orchestra began.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MqoANESQ4cQ) A harp playing a short simple tune before pianos and strings joined gradually, flowing and urging the couple to dance. “Just walking and spinning in circles. I'll guide you.” Ryan said over the sound of the music.

The room was in silence as they began. He followed somewhat clumsily as Ryan pulled him around the floor, the gents feet mirroring his own with a few stepped-on toes. A pink blush covered Ryan's cheeks, and Gavin couldn't look away as they moved. He felt as though the music itself carried them along, circling them, enclosing them in their own moment of intimacy.

_Don't be stupid. It's part of the story. He has to do this._

As the music reached a low crescendo, the dance became easier. They moved in sync, dipping on each step and circling one another. Gavin couldn't help but enjoy himself.

The orchestra faded out into silence. Both men stopped and stepped away, coming back to their own fake reality. Ryan seemed breathless as he took deep breaths. The attendees applauded their dance as they both bowed to one another. 

Bells began to sound.

Both turned their vision to a large clock that sat above the throne. Midnight.

“I have to leave.”

Gavin began to pick up some of his dress to avoid stepping and tripping. Ryan reached out and grabbed his forearm. “Where can I find you?”

Gavin grinned and reached down. He tugged off his glass slippers and handed one to Ryan. “Small house on the outskirts of town. Just outside the city walls.”

Ryan nodded. “Go. I'll find you.”

Without another word, Gavin sprinted into the crowd, glass slipper in hand and praying the carriage wasn't a pumpkin.

~*~

Fortunately, the carriage stayed a carriage until he arrived back at the house. His dress had shed away its layers for the ugly gray one to be revealed. He couldn't describe his relief to wipe at his lips and not feel the sticky lip gloss.

As he stepped out, the carriage rattled and changed back into a pumpkin with a high pitched popping sound. The men, too, shrunk down in their clothes and back into mice.

Gavin pushed the back door open and made his way to his room. To discover that he wasn't the only one in this world, he had let relief overcome him. But it wasn't the end. He figured the end would be when Ryan slipped the shoe back on his foot, then they could both go home and... What? Tell everyone they played Cinderella?

_One way ticket to a mental hospital._

Gavin stripped out of his dress. He still wasn't entirely convinced that it wasn't a dream, either. Prince Ryan could just be a trick his brain was playing on him. Give him a friend and let him think he wasn't actually dreaming.

He crawled into bed and let his eyes close. He refused to think about how he felt when he danced with Ryan. He just wanted it to be over.

~*~

A scream woke him from his rest.

Day was barely breaking as Gavin rubbed his eyes from sleep. He heard quick footsteps echo throughout the house. He wanted to cover his head and pretend he wasn't in this bullshit world anymore.

Gavin pushed himself out of bed, his muscles were barely working at that time and took his time stretching. 

“Hurry up! He's not gonna wait!” He heard Ray shout through the house.

_Oh... Ryan. Totally forgot._

He slipped on his nightgown from the previous night and peered outside his door. Michael, Ray, and Jack were rushing to make themselves presentable. Jack was somewhat ready, but Michael was running without a shirt on, and Ray was pantsless. He loved his friends, but he enjoyed these versions miserable.

The front door slammed to a close, and Gavin left his room to saunter downstairs and into the foyer. Without hesitation, he pulled the door open to see Ryan with his hands on his hips in front of Jack, Ray, and Michael. His expression softened when he saw Gavin in his nightgown.

“I knew you were here,” he said with barely a breath.

Jack looked fuming. “That's... That's just Gavin!”

Gavin took a closer look at Ray and Michael and gagged into his hand. Their bare feet were bloody, broken and bruised. He looked to The Prince, who looked apologetic. He shrugged. “I tried to stop them. They insisted.”

Michael and Ray both bared their teeth at the lad as he stepped toward him. “The shoe?”

He gagged again when Ryan rubbed Michael and Ray's blood and matter off the glass of the show. Ryan took a deep breath. “Are you ready?”

“Ready.”

“Please tell me you don't have a foot fetish,” he replied as he got down onto one knee.

Ryan slid the shoe beneath Gavin's raised foot. It slid into place easily and didn't shift as Gavin wiggled.

Jack started at Gavin and pointed a finger at him. “You didn't even go!”

He panicked. He could defend himself, but not against Jack. Never against Jack. Fortunately, Ryan stepped between the two, grunting in pain as he moved. “That's enough. I'm taking him with me.”

Gavin winced. His head began to throb, heat radiating at his temples. “Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

“I don't feel so good.”

Ryan turned to him and groaned. “Just hold out, Gav.”

He couldn't. The pain became too much and he crumbled to the ground. The world around the two faded to a bright white as he clutched at his own head. He stayed conscious long enough to see Ryan faint, body hitting the floor with a dull thud. After that, there was only black.

_I want to go home._


End file.
